


JU2T FOR NOW

by Elendraug



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks (Homestuck), Casual Sex, Cloaca, Dirty Talk, Horn Stimulation, M/M, Open Relationships, Post-Canon, Psionic Sex, Psionics, Purring Trolls (Homestuck), Sex Positive, Wet & Messy, Xeno, new partner, questionable taste in erotic playlists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug
Summary: Caliborn’s expression brightens with recognition. “Dirk showed me this one.”“Did Dirk show you updog?”“He—” Caliborn stops himself. “Look, I escaped enough of a trap to know not to walk into one.”





	JU2T FOR NOW

**Author's Note:**

> caliborn/sollux, the first of its kind. I love these guys a lot
> 
> did you know lil b sampled imogen heap in this track? thank you [centaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaur) for getting this stuck in my head for a solid month
> 
> ♫ lil b - I'm god - [original](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2pyops3UGr4) | [instrumental](https://youtu.be/ywDsgOkaEwo) | [imogen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yBBaK1vGh4)
> 
> I wrote half of this fic in the week before the epilogues dropped and the other half afterward and that made for a surreal experience with these two
> 
> thank you to the usual suspects for cheering me on while I write, I appreciate your support
> 
> dear aughts internet: I love you and I miss you
> 
>  **ETA 5/16/19:** aw goddamn it, rest in peace YTMND
> 
>  **ETA 9/15/2019:** thank you [mare](https://mare-erythraeum.tumblr.com) for the gorgeous artwork!!

After a solid minute of insistent knocking, Sollux stands up from his desk to open the door to his ground-level hive.

“Yeah?”

Caliborn crosses his arms over his chest before speaking. “Dave said you were down to fuck.”

Sollux leans against the doorframe. “Dave is correct.”

“Damn, really?” Caliborn blinks, his long eyelashes flitting against his cheekbones as briefly as his tongue flicks out into the air. “It’s that easy?”

“I can be easy if I want.” Sollux shrugs. “That’s my call to make.”

“I, uh.” Caliborn glances to the side, then looks back. “I’d had this whole thing planned. The windup, the pitch, the frantic racing around various bases. The home run.”

Sollux laughs. “Human sports.” 

Caliborn grins. “I know, right?”

“Well, cool. Now that’s out of the way.” Sollux steps aside and gestures towards the living room. “You gonna come in?”

“Am I ever."

Caliborn crosses the threshold and Sollux closes the door and locks it behind them. The place is quiet, save for the whirring of fans in a series of server racks and the faint tones of a streaming playlist set to shuffle. 

Sollux sits down at his desk and changes the playlist to a different set of songs that are more thematically appropriate.

Caliborn narrows his eyes as he strains to hear. “Is that leekspin?”

“Yes.” Sollux rotates ninety degrees in his chair and faces Caliborn. “What else did Dave say?”

“He said you were a good lay.”

“I like to think so.” Sollux stretches his arms overhead and holds the position until his elbows make a soft _click_. “Every other time.”

Caliborn gives him a look, with a raised brow. “ _Karkat_ said you were a lousy lay.”

“Eheheh.” He then lets his arms fall to his lap. “That’s the other time.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Caliborn steps forward, strides confidently towards the computer chair, and rests his hands on its arms, without letting his claws dig into the leather. “You wanna know what else I heard?”

Sollux meets his gaze, red and blue against red, and Caliborn’s stature is such that even with Sollux sitting, there’s hardly any leaning required for their faces to be close. At one time, they could have been black and white, and read all over. “Yeah, what?”

“I have it on good authority that you’ve got a thing for assholes in capes.”

“Sure.” Sollux puts his hands on Caliborn’s narrow waist, the loose, richly crimson fabric flowing over his knuckles. “Some of their lies have some correct qualities.”

“Do you like kissing?” Caliborn asks. “Because I do.”

“Me too. We can make out if you want.” Sollux runs his thumbs over the buckles on his suspenders.

“Are you any good at it?” Caliborn grins with teeth. “I’m used to fifty-fifty odds.”

“Yeah, I am. But you don’t wanna hear me pronounce it.”

“Doesn’t matter. This is a story we’re writing with action, not words.”

“Lame.”

“You’d say that to a guy who’s missing a leg?” Caliborn climbs fully into his lap, his thighs pressing against the arms of the desk chair. “Rude.”

“This is what you signed up for. My sense of humor is shit.” Sollux slides his hands down Caliborn’s back, feeling out the prominence of his ribs and vertebrae. “There’s still time to back out.”

“Like hell.” Caliborn winds his arms over Sollux’s shoulders and keeps his weight counterbalanced in his thighs, so they won’t topple the chair. “It’d take more than a few microaggressions to deter me.”

Sollux laughs, and reaches out for his mouse with his right hand. The distance is too great; he uses his psionics instead to advance the playlist to _We Didn’t Start This Website!_

Caliborn’s expression brightens with recognition. “Dirk showed me this one.”

“Did Dirk show you updog?”

“He—” Caliborn stops himself. “Look, I escaped enough of a trap to know not to walk into one.”

Sollux snickers and returns his right hand to Caliborn’s hip, bracing his feet on the floor to ensure that gravity remains their ally. “So what about all that hot narrative action you promised?”

“Fuck, it’s _always_ like this. I’m ready to be badass or whatever and one of you gets me off on a tangent. It’s like it’s fucking contagious.”

“Getting you off is contagious?” Sollux brings his hands up his chest to tug him forward by the straps. “Pff, I can’t believe you’re wearing suspenders.”

“I can’t believe you even attempt to enunciate words you know you can’t say.”

“Ooh, now who’s passing out the microaggressions?” he lisps, laying it on thicker than is necessary. “Say you’re sorry.”

“For _fuck’s_ sake.”

“ _For fuck’s sake_ ,” Sollux repeats, mocking him with his tongue past his teeth. “Let’s just fuck.”

“God, I’m so glad you don’t want to bullshit me.” Caliborn settles his weight on Sollux’s lap and brings his mouth close to his. “Let’s get off.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sollux’s breath is hot against his scales, and he slips his hands around to grab Caliborn’s ass as he moves in to kiss him, catching his bottom lip with his teeth.

Caliborn clings to his heat, both of their bodies blanketed by the long trail of his cape as it covers everything from his shoulders down to Sollux’s shins. He flicks his tongue out and Sollux parts his lips to meet his with his own, forked in his own way and not by the usual course of his species’ biology.

“Weird.” Sollux pulls his head back, laughing. “Next you’re gonna tell me you have two dicks, too.”

Caliborn kisses the corner of his mouth, next to fangs remarkably similar to his own, gold in theme if not in composition. “Yeah, about that.”

Sollux’s eyes go wide. “No way.”

“There’s a reason everybody kept telling me to come over here.” 

“And now you get to come over here.” Sollux digs his fingertips into Caliborn’s thighs, around the side, feeling out the jut of his hips. “Kinda great that you’re even bonier than I am.”

“Yeah. I’m, uh. I’m into it.” He exhales against Sollux’s ear, and with the flatness of his nostrils the angle of it is nothing like Sollux has felt from others in similar positions. “You seem like you’re like me.”

“And what are you like?” Sollux asks, running his hands back up Caliborn’s spine, finding the ridges on his spine without knowing that they’re scutes. “I thought you hated trolls or something.”

“Several years of hooking up with trolls has convinced me of the error of my ways.” He shudders beneath Sollux’s fingertips and presses back into the touch. “Maybe the second or so mistake I’ve ever made.”

“ _I’ve_ heard that you’re a twin.” Sollux turns his head to brush his lips over the solid circle on Caliborn’s cheek. “So get ready for all the jokes everybody’s gonna make about us after this.”

“It’s something like that. And I don’t care what they say.” Caliborn pushes his hips down against Sollux’s, pajama pants against jeans. “You don’t mind, do you?” 

“It’s not that I don’t mind.” Sollux runs his forked tongue along Caliborn’s jawline until he shudders again in his lap. “It’s that I fail spectacularly to give a shit.”

The music switches over to _Opblaaskrokodil_ , and Caliborn laughs against Sollux’s hair. “Oh, so _French Erotic Film_ is what gets you hot?” 

“You know it.” Sollux lets his head rest fully back against the chair, his horns pricking into the leather. “There’s not much that’s more erotic than human Colin Mochrie battling Jegus.” 

“You wanna watch something?” Caliborn suggests. “What porn are you into?”

“Supposedly _you_ have highly specific tastes.” Sollux kisses down his neck until the cape and the bowtie block his access to skin. “Besides, you’re a guest. Why don’t you pick?”

Caliborn runs his claws over the back of Sollux’s head, his hand seeking the space between his hair and the chair. “Can I use your computer?”

Sollux nods and feels Caliborn’s hand move against his skull. “Go for it.”

Caliborn leans over Sollux to reach for his keyboard and mouse, and navigates to Grubtube. “Should I pause your music?”

“Nah. Leave it running.” Sollux pets up along Caliborn’s arm, over his sleeve, to push the cape aside and ease the effort of stroking over his shoulder blade. “Call it a mash-up.”

“I don’t know if this counts as a kink or what, but have you ever wanted to marry a bird?” Caliborn asks, without anything in his tone to indicate that the question is a joke.

Sollux laughs despite himself. “Uh, can’t say that I have?”

“Well. I hope you are okay with polyamory, because Okosan is my husbandove.”

Sollux laughs harder. “More like you ought to tell your beloved bird that you’re over here about to fuck me at my desk.”

“Okosan would never deny me an earthly indulgence.” 

“You’re currently denying me circulation to my legs.” 

“Fuck, sorry.” Caliborn stands up, his cape swooshing with the movement, and maneuvers past the desk chair to pull up a Let’s Play that is mercifully without commentary.

“I’m gonna grab us some stuff, okay?” Sollux stands up, too, and gets in an additional grab at Caliborn’s ass. “You want anything to drink? I’ve got... uh, soda? And water.” 

“A bountiful selection.” Caliborn skips past large sections of the footage, searching for something in particular. “Do you have Faygo?”

Sollux hesitates for the first time since Caliborn set one organic foot and one metal foot into his home. “As loath as I am to admit it, yes, I do have Faygo. It’s just soda.”

Caliborn gives him a knowing look and an accompanying knowing grin. “I’ll take a wicked elixir, thanks.”

Sollux nods, and reaches for his phone on the desk. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just texting my roommate.”

“About me?” Caliborn doesn’t look up from the dual monitors.

Sollux smiles at him where he can’t see. “Yeah. Letting her know it’s a bad idea to show up for the next hour or whatever.”

“Who is it?”

Sollux snorts. “I think if she sashayed into the sexual picture, it might spoil the boy fun.”

“I think you know more about me than you’re saying.” Caliborn looks at him over his shoulder, dramatic with the cape, with his assured stance. “And I’m flattered.”

Sollux dual wields his fingerguns and walks backwards out of the room, towards his kitchen.

Without worrying for even an instant, Sollux turns his back on Caliborn and leaves him with his computer, and busies himself with taking two bottles of water and a can of Moon Mist out of the thermal hull. He holds all three drinks in the crook of his elbow, digs a plastic garbage bag out of a cabinet, and makes a second stop at a linen closet to pick up a black towel.

When he returns to the living room, Caliborn is right where he left him, still fussing with the timestamp on the video. Sollux sets the drinks down on the desk first, unperturbed by the potential for condensation on the pressboard’s veneer, and then sets about spreading first the garbage bag and then the towel down over the seat of his desk chair. 

“You’ve had a bulge in you, right?” Sollux sits back down, and the setup crinkles only somewhat audibly. “Given what you’ve said about KK I feel like that’s safe to presume, but I gotta ask.”

“I have absolutely had so much bulge in me, you can’t even imagine.” Caliborn unpauses the Grubtube video and makes a wise decision to mute the game footage so it doesn’t interrupt the dulcet tones of _Caramelldansen_. “But maybe you should try to imagine it.”

“I don’t have to imagine anything.” Sollux spins the chair back towards where Caliborn is standing and unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down over his slender legs and tossing them underneath the desk. “We’re about to make that shit happen.”

Caliborn takes a cue from him and unclips his suspenders to shove his pajama pants and underwear down. He kicks them off, his gold prosthesis gleaming in the early afternoon light of the same planet on which he was born, transported to millennia prior to his own hatching, before the sun became a red giant. 

He turns around and meets Sollux’s eyes as he continues undressing, his damaged and repaired cape thrown aside with flair, bowtie set onto the desk beside the mouse, suspenders slid off his shoulders and wound up in tightly-coiled spirals to rest on the desktop as well.

“Nice.” Sollux watches him, relaxed in the chair, appreciative with his arms on the armrests and his bulges visibly slipped out within his boxers. “You look fairly fuckable.”

“I _am_ fairly fuckable and I do play fair, despite what others might think about me.” He pulls his shirt over his head and wads it up to toss it a few feet away, to land near his cape, then uses his prosthesis to hold down the back of his lone shoe, to tug his organic foot out of it. “You know I used to keep the suspenders on all the damn time?”

Sollux slides his hand down his own stomach to rest it over his crotch, over the fabric. The tips of his bulges writhe within the cloth in an attempt to reach his fingers. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because they helped me feel grounded when I wasn’t as sure of myself.” Caliborn kicks any and all clothing near the casters of the chair away from the likely rolling path, and nods towards his newfound partner. “You gonna take your shirt off?”

“I _guess_ I can take off my shirt.” Sollux grabs the black tee at its shoulders and pulls it up, the large, white æ covering the width of his head as he tugs it off himself and the screen print crosses over his face. He keeps talking, even from behind the cloth. “Damn shame you don’t appreciate this calligram reminding you what matters most in this world. Inspirational words like _cockmongler_ and _candleja_ —”

Caliborn shakes his head and helps Sollux get the shirt past his horns, the mood set very much by the music crossfading into _PONPONPON_. “So I heard you like—”

“Mudkips,” Sollux mumbles, as his mouth is freed from the shirt.

“I was gonna say internet culture.” Caliborn flings Sollux’s shirt onto the accumulated pile of laundry. “You ready to do this?”

“Fuck yes.” Sollux pulls his feet up to take his socks off, and follows it with shoving his boxers down. The motion starts to slide the trash bag off the desk chair; he reaches back to reposition it behind himself, and looks up at Caliborn with his bulges twisting half-unsheathed between his thighs. “I am ready to get my junk wetter than usual.”

“You’re gonna have to do the heavy lifting on that front.” Caliborn climbs back into the chair, straddling Sollux’s thighs once again and holding onto his shoulders for balance. “I’m not going into a biology lesson, though.”

“Yeah, it’s not that I don’t care how your junk works, on some level? But if you’ve been fucking Karkat and whoever then you’re not gonna go into anaphylactic shock, so it’s whatever.” Sollux puts his hands on Caliborn’s thighs, holding him steadily in place as his bulges twist toward his scaled stomach. “It should feel good, and if it doesn’t feel good, just say so and I’ll stop.”

“Got it.” Caliborn rocks himself forward in Sollux’s lap, his knees pushing just slightly past the armrests. “Same goes for you.”

“Cool. Wanna make out some more?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sollux tips his head back and lifts his mouth towards Caliborn’s, lets his forked tongue slip past his lips like he’s lisping, barely touched to his teeth, waiting for him to return the contact.

Caliborn shifts forward, with Sollux’s skin soft on his scales, and he darts his tongue out to lick against him, open-mouthed and eager.

A tense warmth settles in at the nape of Sollux’s neck, and his bulges unsheathe further, already slick with genetic material. It’s easy to support Caliborn’s skeletal weight on his lap, and even easier for one of his bulges to find the entrance to his vent.

“Weren’t you supposed to be watching your hypothetical anime avatar flirt with a flock of birds?” Sollux asks, before kissing him again.

“The audio from _They’re Taking The Hobbits To Isengard_ isn’t turning you on?” Caliborn counters, while his hands find their way up into Sollux’s hair.

“A dude in that video is named Celeborn, bee tee dubs.” Sollux’s eyes fall closed for a brief moment, as his bulge trails wetness around Caliborn’s cloaca, not quite within him. “In case you needed another doppelgänger.”

“Do you much desire to speak with him?” Caliborn takes the shell of Sollux’s ear between his teeth, holding it without biting down.

“The speaking isn’t specifically what I desire.” Sollux sighs and rolls his hips upward, until his bulge frots against his vent enough to begin to slip inside him. “I thought we weren’t writing this with words.”

“I think we’re making it up as we go.” Caliborn’s hemipenes gradually evert, far smaller than Sollux’s bulges but just as fleshy and soft, quickly slickened by gold. “Just improvise and choose your own fucking adventure.”

“ _Shit._ ” Sollux takes in a sharp breath through his fangs as Caliborn’s vent takes him in and instinctively clenches around him, his other bulge writhing against the tensed muscle of his thigh. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

“It may surprise you to know how much I’m capable of taking.” He darts his tongue out to trace the structure of his ear, fleeting and light, tasting the scent of him in the roof of his mouth. “You could get both of them in me.”

An eardrum-aggravating, badly leveled audio track begins screaming about liking the moon. Sollux grits his teeth and skips to the next one.

“So it’s not birds you find arousing, but rodents?” Caliborn lets his weight settle further on Sollux’s thighs, hemipenes gliding against the twisting slickness of Sollux’s bulge as he sinks onto him. The speakers blast _The Hampsterdance Song_ , a single by Hampton the Hampster, from the album _Hampsterdance: The Album_. “Who are you to judge my relationship with my dear, sweet, precious Okosan?”

The video is still playing, and Okosan is resplendent beside the Platonic pudding of legend, wings spread in angelic grace. The pudding is, allegedly, the ambrosia of the gods, itself a honeyed and divine substance, whether served by Ganymede or as a ‘miracle in jiggling, corporeal form, a treasure shining with the colors of the rainbow’. Caliborn looks away from Sollux to watch the screen with him as his husbandove ascends to his god tier.

“Lord of Pudding is a rarified classpect,” Sollux notes.

“Okosan is the best, and not just because he’s also a Lord.” Caliborn sighs, and Sollux has a mixed reaction to how flustered his tone is. “Just look how fucking meta this bullshit is.”

“Isn’t he the one who’s like, an actual fucking bird? Like, the designer’s lusus or something?” Sollux squints at the screen. “Jack off to a different pigeon, dude, that’s weird.”

“Hampton is a real hamster, too.”

“Fine.” Sollux skips to another song. “Pick a different playthrough. There’s thousands of them out there.”

“Okay, how about _Namco High_?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Don’t worry about it.” Caliborn reaches over to pause the video and brings all his attention back to Sollux’s face, to the way his bangs barely brush against his eyebrows, to the short huffs of breath that leave his mouth. “There’ll be plenty of other times to watch weird shit on the internet while we fuck, if you want.”

“I think I might be up for that,” Sollux says, relocating his hands to find a place on Caliborn’s back once again, careful to smooth along his scales in the correct direction. One of his bulges twists its way within Caliborn, slick and softly squished, thick and filling without feeling especially intrusive. The other curls between their bodies, between Caliborn’s everted hemipenes, gliding back and forth and passing over them. “I mean. If Karkat’s been dating you or whatever for this long, then I trust you.”

“He’d have words about that, probably.” Caliborn flicks his tongue over Sollux’s neck, just below his ear, the forked points teasing his skin. “You wanna play a game?”

Sollux shivers and tilts his head to the side, horns toward the leather, fingertips against Caliborn’s scutes. “Yeah, what is it?”

“It’s called a lightning round.” He runs his tongue over his neck again, then down to his shoulder. “I guess it’s a human thing, maybe.”

[ ](https://cdnw.nickpic.host/rCTkGF.png)

“Well, electricity is sort of my thing, so I should be good at this.” Sollux lets his eyes fall half-lidded and feels wetness dripping out of his nook and onto the terrycloth. “How does it go?”

“I ask you a question and you answer it, then you ask me one and I do the same.” Caliborn continues to lick at him, from shoulder to jawline to ear until Sollux’s breathing is coming in shorter bursts. He clenches his cloaca around his bulge and sighs along with him. “It’s, ah... It’s truth or dare but without the dare.”

“Daring sort of questions, though, right? Or can it be anything?” Sollux shuts his eyes entirely and focuses on the feeling of his bulges writhing against and inside Caliborn’s body, on the welcomed weight of his thighs around his waist. “Should I go first?”

Caliborn flicks his tongue against his earlobe. “You can.”

“Fuck.” Sollux sucks in a harsh breath between his teeth. “Uh, how many trolls have you fucked?”

“Three, including you.” He rocks his hips for emphasis.

Sollux breathes out, laughing. “You gonna tell me who?”

“Not sure that’s your _beeswax_ , is it?” Caliborn teases at his ear again, and Sollux’s free bulge thrashes between their bodies. “My turn.”

“Ask away,” Sollux assures him, waiting for his voice, as if he wouldn’t see if he opened his eyes.

“Aren’t you magic or something?” Caliborn lowers his hands to Sollux’s palpable ribs and easily locates his grubscars, even with his face lowered to his throat. “I thought that was your deal.”

“That I am. I _am_ magic, I’m so glad you asked.” Sollux lowers his hands, too, to hold Caliborn’s hips again and rock him down against his bulges. He shifts his weight, with the towel and trash bag shifting along with him, if only slightly, and tips the chair back until his psionic casting catches the casters and lifts them from the floor. Gravity stills, their weight suspended in a light show, and Caliborn can feel the static in his eyelashes and his quadrate bone.

“Damn.” Caliborn lets his knees push further outward, over the edge of the seat and beneath the arms of the chair, lets his head rest against Sollux’s shoulder and the smooth texture of the leather. The metal of his prosthesis is cool against Sollux’s thigh. “You’re magic as shit.”

“I know, right?” Sollux flexes his toes into the air, his body upended by his own demonstration.

The track that’s playing hits the bridge and regales them with an account of Batman’s head between the ultimate in masculine thighs, as sung by an acidic entity. “Is that your question? A rhetorical one?”

“No.” Sollux laughs. “Check this out.”

While maintaining the support for their seating, Sollux starts a second set of psionics down between their legs, to buzz around his bulge as it curls within Caliborn, to stimulate the other as it drags genetic material across his hemipenes. Caliborn’s reaction is immediate, and Sollux feels it in the sudden exhale of breath against his throat, in the tension of his tightness.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Great soliloquy, cherub Shakespeare.” Sollux brings his hands all the way up Caliborn’s back, to trace his fingertips in tight circles over his cervical vertebrae. “Here’s my question: how’s it feel to ride these bulges?”

“Really good. You’re fucking hot, literally and flirtatiously.” Caliborn pets at his grubscars, and sighs into his hair. “Also, you’ve missed a prime opportunity for a _deez nuts_ joke.”

“I didn’t miss anything, because you’re about to bust one or two, amirite?” Sollux focuses the psychic attention directly onto Caliborn’s cloaca and its surrounding tissue.

Caliborn shudders. “You only get one question.” 

Sollux rubs his thumbs at the base of Caliborn’s skull, at the nape of his neck. “Maybe I should get two, seeing as it’s my schtick.”

“I’ll allow it.” Caliborn rocks against him, pliable in his hands and against his chest. “The answer is yes.”

“Sweet.”

Caliborn raises his head to curl his tongue around the base of Sollux’s horns, first the major, then the minor, on one side of his head. “I always expect these to be, but they’re not.”

“ _Ah._ ” Sollux jerks his hips upward and rests his claws against Caliborn’s shoulder blades. “Ah, fuck.”

“Next question.” Caliborn flicks his tongue over the tips of Sollux’s horns. “Are you close?”

“Yeah.” Sollux nods and feels Caliborn’s tongue follow his slight movements, watching what little he can see with his peripheral vision: green scales, mostly. “Does making out help you get off, too?”

“Yes.” Caliborn pulls back and runs his claws lightly up along Sollux’s side, to his shoulder, to his jawline, and lifts his chin with two fingertips. “Let’s do that.”

Sollux smiles, looking to him with half-lidded eyes, and parts his lips for him while he waits for the touch of his tongue to his own once more. Caliborn kisses him, the fork of his tongue structured slightly differently from Sollux’s own split, but similar enough to be notable, just like their respective dentition. 

They both close their eyes and settle against one another, three fingertips stroking back towards his ear, four fingertips seeking out his cool scales, and Caliborn rolls his hips in time with the steadied, coiling, spiraled motion of Sollux’s bulge within his vent. There’s gold streaked between them, seeping out between Sollux’s spread thighs, as he parts his legs more, as he rocks his weight down against the sodden texture of the towel to give his nook lips even scant stimulation.

Sollux breaks the kiss long enough to laugh, breathless, against Caliborn’s fangs. “This song’s by the same guy. Wait for it.”

The scroll wheel of the mouse moves without him even glancing at it, and it clicks once, which is all it takes to serenade them with creatively spliced clips of vocals from Ray Parker Jr.

Caliborn pulls back and laughs even harder as soon as he hears it begin. "You’re a real charmer.”

“And you’re a snake, so.” Sollux grins at him and tilts his chin up towards him. “Guess it must’ve worked.”

“Bustin’ makes us all feel good,” Caliborn confirms, before closing the distance to kiss him again, skeletal lips against ones that are almost as thin, his fingers stroking the short hair at the back of his head.

Sollux’s bulges flail without rhythm as the song becomes repetitive and insistent, and he ramps up his efforts with his psionics to compensate for the lack of coordination, chirring as he does so. He feels the vibrations from the tip of his bulge, slid deeply inside Caliborn’s cloaca, to the other as it coils between their bodies, to his sheath, to his nook, to his ass. Caliborn’s hemipenes frot against his bulges, against his stomach, all surfaces slick with Sollux’s ample genetic material.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Sollux moans, into Caliborn’s mouth, eyes closed and hands tight on Caliborn’s hips as his abs clench, as his nook contracts, spilling consecutive waves of fluid while he trembles through his orgasm. He has the wherewithal to psychically raise the edges of the trash bag and the towel to capture it and contain the mess, his own heat pooling beneath his thighs and ass. “Fuck, c’mon.”

“Fuck yeah.” Caliborn braces his hands on Sollux’s bony shoulders and rides him with indulgent movements that aren’t quite thrusting. There’s nothing human present to require it, and it’s easier and far more satisfying to keep his bulge slipped completely inside him, to rub against the accommodating wet glide of Sollux’s second bulge, focused entirely on the physical feeling of the moment. He flicks his tongue out and catches the scent of Sollux’s sweat.

Sollux basks in the afterglow and overstimulation like a reptile under some kinder sun that’s not Alternian, and flings his psionics back to the mouse to change the track as the previous one ends on a split second of a mashup. “How about some mood music?”

 _The Final Countdown_ emanates from the speakers, and the sheer ridiculousness of it does nothing to deter Caliborn’s efforts. There’s a bright flash of joy at the recognition, and he looks at Sollux as he looks up at him, sated, his eyebrows at ease, steadying him with his hands at his hips.

“Be magic.” Caliborn flicks his tongue out again and this time takes in the airborne tang of Sollux’s release, soaked into the towel and sticking to his shins. He squeezes his shoulders, his own candy red irises bathed in the radiance of Sollux’s hazy, lazy stare. He tastes _two_. “Please.”

“Bee magic, coming up.” Sollux rubs his thumbs along Caliborn’s pelvis, in towards his inner thighs, and sends stimulation directly to his hemipenes, to augment the existing pleasure coursing through his cloaca. “Don’t hold back.”

[ ](https://cdnw.nickpic.host/rCT0x5.png)

Caliborn lets his lips stay parted, teeth and tongue visible as he pants heavily. He rocks his hips, frots himself against Sollux’s body, and clenches around the slick thickness of his bulge. The second one passes across his hemipenes in sync with the psionics, and on the third backswing, after a burst of especially intense pulsations, he comes on both sides at once.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, glancing down in time to watch Sollux’s second bulge swipe away the stickiness of his ejaculate where it’s welled up on his hemipenes. He jolts forward again, snapping his hips reflexively, chasing the smooth sensation of its asynchronous waving. His organic toes curl. “Oh fuck.”

“Fucking hot.” Sollux resets the position of the chair so that it can support its own weight as well as theirs, and lets his psionics peter out. “That felt fucking great.”

“Yeah.” Caliborn settles against Sollux’s chest, his arms around his slight shoulders, and tucks his head next to his neck. “Thanks for the sex.”

“Hey, you too. I’d do it again, if you’re bored or whatever.” Sollux runs his fingertips along the small of Caliborn’s back and tests out the tautness of his muscle tissue. “Just message me and let me make sure we’ve got privacy first.”

“Sure.” Caliborn threads his fingers through Sollux’s hair again, combing through it in gentle, repetitive motions. “I’ve got another lightning round for you.”

Sollux trills at the touch. “Yeah? Shoot.”

“Do you ever feel like...” Caliborn’s long eyelashes flutter at Sollux’s throat as he keeps his face close to him, keeps petting his hair. “Something really terrible was supposed to happen to you, but you somehow avoided it?”

Sollux’s breathing steadies as he considers the question, and despite the gravity of it, he can’t stop himself from purring. “ _Somethings_ terrible have happened to me already. You’re gonna have to be more specific. At this point, I just count my blessings.”

Caliborn sighs against his shoulder. “Count with what?”

Sollux holds up two fingers, and taps them against Caliborn’s back. “It’s your dicks.”

He laughs. “Yeah, all right.”

“Okay, so.” Sollux settles his hand on his scales again and holds him, his chest rumbling with contentment. “Why me?”

Caliborn goes quiet, and Sollux listens for his lungs, waiting patiently as the gears turn in his head, as he decides on the best choice of words. Sollux maintains a low level of psionic energy to keep the chair from becoming stained, to keep his bulges from resheathing until Caliborn elects to extract himself from his lap.

When Caliborn lifts his head and looks at him, it’s more wistful than he was expecting, his lashes lowered over usually wide eyes. “I think... the two of us, somewhere, somewhen, witnessed something horrendous together.”

Sollux takes it in stride and stays still, rests his hands on his back, fingers splayed out over his shoulder blades to reassure him. “Got that impression, huh?”

“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know what, and in this case, I don’t think I want to know.”

There’s a beat. Sollux blinks, very close to his face. “But?”

“But I wanted to do something nice for you. _With_ you. Even if we don’t really know each other.”

“I mean.” Sollux regards him with eyes reminiscent of two universes, both expired within a closed loop, with only his restored vision and the memories of others left to memorialize their existence. “We could, if you want.”

Caliborn ruffles his hair, and Sollux’s purring picks up. He brings his hand up to trace along the graceful curve of one of his larger horns. “And what, like. Hang out?”

“Yeah. You could invite me to some of the orgies you guys are always having at your place.” Sollux lifts his eyebrows suggestively. “I’ve heard you can do some impressive things with your tongue.”

“I can.” He grins at him. “And there’s still so much stupid shit on the internet I have yet to show you.”

“Yeah, memelord, like all the birds you want to fuck or marry or whatever.” Sollux nuzzles his head towards Caliborn’s hand as he touches his horns. “I’m game.”

Caliborn beams. “That’s my favorite thing to hear.”

“Same.” Sollux shifts in the seat with a squelching sound as the towel moves on the plastic. “We gotta get cleaned up, dude, this is a disaster.”

“Yeah right!” He gets up despite the verbal protest and carefully lifts himself out of the chair, his scales splattered with slurry but not quite dripping. “More like a masterpiece.”

Sollux stays right where he’s at to assess the situation, and his purring fades. “It’s going into the tub and the trash, respectively. It’s a bitch to wash out of the towel, but at least I can get off in the chair without destroying it.”

“Your tried and true masturbation techniques are fascinating and titillating.” Caliborn flicks his tongue out, unconsciously. “We should compare notes.”

“Here’s a hands-on demonstration.” With a practiced motion, Sollux levitates himself above the chair to spare it from an unfortunate end. He floats his boxers back up from the pile and pulls them on in mid-air to prevent any residual slurry from hitting the floor, then reaches down to cross the corners of the garbage bag and tie it off around the towel. “Or hands-off, maybe, for some of that. I dunno.”

“How much gets handed off to your room mate?” Caliborn asks, facetious, and separating the word at its syllables. He takes a bottled water from the desk, twists off the cap, and hands it to Sollux.

“None, because I’m not that kind of douchebag.” Sollux lowers his feet to the ground, takes the water from Caliborn, and chugs half of it before passing it back. He then gingerly picks up the plastic from the seat and shoots him a sly look. “Not unless she helped me make the mess.”

Caliborn snorts, downs the rest of the water, and recaps it. “ _Now_ who’s having orgies?”

“Practically my entire social circle.” Sollux inclines his head towards the hallway. “Let’s wash up and then you can tell me all about your husbandove, who, need I remind you, fondly regarded this whole thing.”

Caliborn glances to the monitor, where he left Okosan paused. He sets the empty bottle back down in the ring of condensation it left on the desktop, beside the other two beverages. “He and I have an understanding.”

“I’m sure you both understand how quickly this is all gonna dry on your scales.” Sollux waves him on. “Let’s do this so I can tell Nepeta she can come back to her own hive.”

He follows him, his organic and metal feet treading on the floor with disparate noises. “Sounds like _somebody_ doesn’t have all the time in world.”

“Classpect joke!” Sollux turns on his heel and sticks his tongue out at him, his amusement evident in the way his cheeks lift. “Looks like we’re _doomed_ to use soap, or something.”

Caliborn sticks his tongue out, too, and the forked tips of it flick upward. “That’s fate for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> the meat postscript fucked me UP, guys
> 
> here's all the songs I had them listen to:
> 
>   * [Leekspin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wnE4vF9CQ4)
>   * [We Didn't Start This Website!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-DMIf-WZYU)
>   * [French Erotic Film (Colin Mochrie versus Jesus H. Christ)](https://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/french)
>   * [Okosan ascends to Lord Pudi](https://youtu.be/7iTvFftiesw?t=1840)
>   * [Caramelldansen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J_DV9b0x7v4)
>   * [PONPONPON](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzC4hFK5P3g)
>   * [They're Taking The Hobbits To Isengard](https://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/hobbits)
>   * [We Like The Moon](http://www.rathergood.com/moon_song/)
>   * [The Hampsterdance Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qN72LEQnaU)
>   * [The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WgT9gy4zQA)
>   * [Bustin](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tdyU_gW6WE)
>   * [The Final Countdown](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jK-NcRmVcw)
> 

> 
> additionally:
> 
>   * [Lewis Black, re: candy corn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sYjA2JHuMwQ)
> 



End file.
